


it's like you're photoshopped

by Metis_Ink



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 6k words of emotional turmoil, Actor Victor Nikiforov, Alternate Universe - Actors, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Gen, M/M, Multimedia, [puts my mouth on a microphone] Hello I Love Movie References, commission, inspired by fake pixar bloopers, k ind of, kind of, second half is bonus material
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 00:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10399419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metis_Ink/pseuds/Metis_Ink
Summary: Not-So-Local Ex-Dancer Upsets Coworkers by Failing to Communicate with Celebrity Castmate, details at eleven.//Yuuri just wants to retire already.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trainingskates](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=trainingskates).



> disclaimers that my research on these careers are limited to blogs, interviews, binging behind the scenes footage, various bloopers, some musical experience, and several lifelong subscriptions to film vloggers that mostly just served to make me barf out movie references like a human disaster. forgive any irl inconsistencies, and thank you for indulging me and my lovely commissioner [trainingskates](https://twitter.com/trainingskates). my crops are watered and my wallet replenished.
> 
> kudos if you guess the title reference because i watched that scene like 1000 times to gear myself up while writing this fic.

“Your acting game has to be better than this, Big Yuuri.”

A response pauses on Yuuri’s lips. It’s not a good time to have an existential crisis, but realizing he’s standing on set with Hollywood’s current director of infamy, cradling a filled schedule of grinding dance routines into sleep-deprived actors, with his mouth open to, once again, try and convince said director to stop calling you Big Yuuri for the sake of the unfortunate Small Yuri, is more or less an out of body experience.

Of course, though, small shifts in reality don’t work well in conversation. “Acting game?” he says instead.

“Right! Right! The one with you—” JJ indicates Yuuri, who looks very sad in his sweaty work out shirt and 30-minute nap hair. “—trying to act like our friend Victor doesn’t exist.”

Oh, right.

“It’s not very nice, but also super transparent, if you know what I mean. I don’t want to keep watching him sit out there picking petals off daisies. That’s not fun.”

“Um,” Yuuri croaks. “I think you’re talking to the wrong person about, uh, Victor.”

Director Jean-Jacques Leroy gives him a pitying look. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, with the whole ignoring thing, but our buddy Victor has the attention span of a _rock_. I, like, have a list of the things that I have talked about that have gotten significant reactions from him. Here, wait.”

JJ reaches into his neon green jacket and pulls out a notepad, stuffed with multicolored post-its and decorated with an old South Park sticker. As he flips through it, several largely-printed notes catch Yuuri’s eye, including **IZZY’S BIRTHDAY** and **VANCOUVER REFERENCE**.

“There you are!” JJ shoves a very short list into Yuuri’s face, and, as proclaimed, there he is: right between _dog vines_ and _Stéphane Lambiel photoshoot_. “Throw him a bone, Big Yuuri; it’ll cheer him up! I would bet my seven Oscars on it.”

A pause. “You don’t have any Oscars.”

JJ chalks up his signature winner’s smile and without flinching, proclaims, “Well, I won’t if I’m screwed over by hiring a dance instructor who’s going to screw over my entire movie, will I!”

 

* * *

 

The second time Yuuri had heard about The Movie had been when Victor Nikiforov was finally announced for casting, and the media erupted as if the world was ending.

 _Oh no!_ They cried through distressed words smashed into their Macbooks. _They can’t cast our Victor into such an inappropriate role, allow him to be handled by such an inexperienced director! It’s not true to his character! How would he ever recover from such a disaster!_

 _Oh no,_ Yuuri realized, because the first time Yuuri had heard about The Movie had been when they’d called to ask if he and Minako wanted to choreograph for a first-time celebrity director who had nothing under his belt but a script two parts inspired by West Side Story and three parts inspired by a dream he had had after an all-nighter high on Red Bull.

They’d also wanted to know if Yuuri wanted a cameo in said story. That’s how Yuuri knew how desperate they were.

When Yuuri had retired in shame six months ago, he hadn’t expected many people to care. He’s a ballet dancer with a decent reputation, though nothing spectacular in comparison to his _Benois de la Danse_ mentor.

Of course, he had never made the whole retiring in shame part very clear at that point. The idea was that someone would think of him, immediately remember the Incident, and just assume Yuuri had, in fact, retired in shame. Eventually the idea would become cemented as truth when Yuuri would never show his face in public ever again.

So their interest at all surprised Yuuri. It had been simple reasoning, when Minako had explained it to him; Yuuri is young, modest, and popular, much like the character they need for the film.

Popular, Yuuri had laughed. Oh, he had choked, when Minako had showed him the view counts on his performances. They call him a genius, an artisan, but Yuuri’s memories of kicking the metaphorical bucket onstage, in front of hundreds of the most important people in his career, still reel in his mind. How do people still remember who he is, let alone want him on a _feature film_?

“Do this movie,” Minako had told him, shoving articles and comments in his face. “Do something together with real, living, people and stop digging yourself deeper into this sad pit you call a _break_.”

“But.” Yuuri had flapped his arms pathetically. “It’s probably not even going to be that good.”

“I’m going to choreograph it,” she had said through gritted teeth. “Say that _one more time_.”

Yuuri didn’t.

So, up until recently, Yuuri’s only hope then had been the public’s waning faith. There were so many other things to care about at the time, so much better movies with bigger titles and longer commercials clogging up Youtube videos. Nobody would be there to witness the end of his tragedy.

Until Victor Nikiforov showed up and ruined everything.

 

* * *

 

This doesn’t mean Yuuri is avoiding Victor.

Victor Nikiforov, human life-ruiner and owner of the most divine voice Yuuri has ever heard, is a good person. Just because he had unwittingly wrenched Yuuri’s plans by being a beautiful and internationally-acclaimed scandal doesn’t mean that Yuuri can’t appreciate the fact that Victor is undoubtedly a god amongst men when it comes to the performing arts. Yuuri is lucky to be able to breathe in the same room as Victor, let alone teach him how to dance.

For three hours a day, six days a week, Yuuri and Victor interact plenty, focusing on nothing but the weight of the cold studio floor beneath their feet. Victor takes pride in his career, no matter how many times he may inadvertently insult Yuuri’s poor lifestyle choices, so he respects Yuuri and doesn’t always distract him from his job.

But when he does.

“Are… Are you taking selfies with my cactus?”

Victor blinks at Yuuri owlishly. “Well, what did you expect by keeping a tiny cactus in your studio?”

Yuuri looks at the cactus. It’s not much more than a roundish bulb, nestled in its little, ordinary pot. Yuuri has allowed for it to sit with rest of his belongings in a secluded area of the studio, where he can fuss over it on breaks instead of doing dangerous things like talk to Victor Nikiforov. When Victor Nikiforov takes interest in said distraction, its secondary purpose becomes null.

As a California non-native, Yuuri doesn’t dare answer Victor’s question directly. “It’s a good luck charm,” he explains instead.

“Aw, how convenient! If I could bring Makkachin to work every day I would,” he says, as if only bringing Makkachin to work every other day is torture. “Maybe this one could be Makkachin Two. Makkachin Junior? Baby Makkachin. Oh! You could think of one, Yuuri. I would love to help you care for it.”

“It already has a name,” Yuuri blurts without thinking.

Victor _beams_ , trapping Yuuri in his eager, puppy dog gaze that reminds Yuuri exactly why he can’t be around Victor outside of this studio. He tries to choke out an excuse, but it sounds a lot less like, “Just kidding,” and a lot more like, a sad, muttered, “Vicchan.”

“Wow!” Victor says. A coy smile plays on his lips. “That sounds a lot like—”

“After my dog,” Yuuri says quickly. Victor stares. “My— childhood dog. From home.” Yuuri swallows and curses the fact that no matter where he looks, there’s a giant mirror glaring his embarrassment right back at him. He waves at Vicchan, the cactus. “My sister gave me that when I left for the States so I wouldn’t miss him.”

“Oh,” Victor says, looking faintly disappointed. It lasts two seconds. “How cute.”

“No, it’s not,” Yuuri says, and plucks Vicchan from Victor’s hands. It feels a lot like solid gold now, blessed by Victor’s touch, and Yuuri feels inadequate for holding it. Which doesn’t make any sense; it’s _his_ cactus. “I believe we’re done for today, Victor. You can go home now.”

He doesn’t dare look at Victor’s disheartened expression.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri doesn’t feel bad about it, on the way home. He can call a taxi, watch the LA lights flash epileptically across the skyline, and rush through his evening routine worrying about nothing more than his disaster of a career.

It’s when he lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling of his lackluster, temporary apartment, that he covers his face with a pillow and groans.

Because Victor, for all his faults, genuinely does not seem to think Yuuri is nothing but a boring ballerina and is attentive to every word of Yuuri’s instruction. Even Mila, who is an angel, tries to be ten steps ahead of Yuuri when Yuuri still needs her to be at step one, and while Otabek is a good listener, he’s hardly engaging. Victor is impossibly open around Yuuri for some reason, and isn’t afraid to show off the child that hides behind his celebrity demeanor. It’s charming. Endearing, even.

But it’s also intimidating, being aware that someone so important wants your attention.

And Yuuri keeps fucking it up.

 

* * *

 

There’s a sandwich shop on the second floor of the studio, and the only people who eat there are the interns who are too poor to leave and the socialites trying to befriend people they met five minutes ago. Yuuri, halfway in the former category, seldom spends his time actually eating there, figuring the daily half-hour he spends in line covers most of his break. Even so, he’s there often enough to notice that Victor and his friends are the regulars who make noise in a comfortable corner of the store.

In the months he’s been here, Yuuri has slowly learned to adapt to Victor’s crew, which consists mostly of castmates. Since, he still hasn’t figured out how _not_ to watch Victor, but he’s learned how to cope well enough not to stress about it.

However, with JJ’s ultimatum ringing in his ears and the heavy rock of guilt making a hole in his stomach, Victor stands out like a wildfire, and Yuuri can’t take his eyes off of him.

It’s creepy. Staring is creepy. Staring at your student, who is an award-winning actor and trying to spend a peaceful day eating BLTs and teasing angry teenagers, from across a crowded café for half an hour is very, very creepy. Especially when said student has tried to invite you to eat with him at least once a week for the past four months, and you’ve turned him down every time. God, Victor looks so comfortable around Yuri and Mila. Yuuri could buy twenty posters of the smile on his face right now.

He swallows.

It’s a sound that echoes like a tree falling in a forest, apparently, because at that moment, Victor decides to look up from over Yuri Plisetsky’s shoulder and meet Yuuri’s gaze.

Yuuri goes stone cold, but it doesn’t last long, as Victor’s expression slips from surprise to a warm grin. For a second, Yuuri’s mind is blank, and then it’s a hot, burning mess, and he can feel himself sway as he conveniently forgets how standing works.

The next thing he knows, he’s in a storage closet, out of breath, with a sandwich that isn’t his and a fistful of plastic spoons. Defeated, he groans and knocks his head against a bottle of Windex.

 

* * *

 

Otabek brings Yuuri a sandwich on their next training session.

“You took mine,” he explains.

“Oh.” Yuuri turns red at the memory. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight and—”

“No, it’s fine. Yura is going to yell at you later, though,” the younger performer warns, before dropping into some warm up stretches.

Yuuri meekly eats his sandwich as Otabek effectively turns gears into his and Yuuri’s No Small Talk lessons for the next few hours. Usually, this comforts Yuuri. He and Otabek are both men of few words, but the underlying message of the sandwich haunts Yuuri throughout half of their training.

“So, um,” Yuuri says instead of tending to Vicchan over their halfway break. Otabek raises an eyebrow. “Is Yuri mad because of the sandwich thing or…”

“Yes,” Otabek tells him. “But mostly because he had to hear Victor whine about it for the hour after that.” He pauses. “He’s not happy.”

“I’d imagine he’s not,” Yuuri deadpans, and prods Vicchan’s pot sadly.

“He says you should throw Victor a bone or something,” Otabek says.

Yuuri laughs internally at the irony of the words, but he decides not to mention it to Otabek. Otabek tells Yuri everything and Yuri doesn’t need to hear that he sounds exactly like JJ Leroy when he’s already in a bad enough mood. There are fewer than two months until filming left, and Yuuri still hasn’t gotten so much as a smile from the boy without some angry refusal of its existence.

“I don’t know how to talk to him,” Yuuri admits. He couldn’t even talk to Victor about _cactuses_ without self-destructing. “It’s not even his fault; I just always feel so…” Yuuri waves his hands. “…so small around him. Inadequate. I could probably sell Vicchan for a hefty price on Ebay just because he posted a selfie with it on Instagram.”

Otabek glances at the cactus. “That sounds a lot like—”

“Named after my _dog_ ,” Yuuri insists. Otabek looks skeptical, which he shouldn’t, because it’s _true_.

“You have that one scene together, right?” Otabek suggests instead. “The one at the end of the movie, with the flowers?”

Yuuri does. It’s his guest appearance in this movie; not that he feels it to be very spectacular. Nobody outside of the dance community really knows who Yuuri is apart from some popular dance videos he and Yuuko made back in college. Most people have dubbed it as Internet Famous JJ showing off the power of social media or something. Which is ironic, considering Yuuri’s twitter has been dead for five years.

“You have to practice your lines together before filming at some point,” Otabek tells him. “He’s mentioned it to you, hasn’t he?”

“Um.” Yuuri searches his memory. “No.”

“He hasn’t?” Otabek says in a rare moment of surprise. “How strange.”

No, it’s not, because Yuuri is a terrible person who is avoiding his crush ( _crush, god, he is literally twelve years old_ ) out of fear for whatever dignity he has left. He was going to let go of said dignity entirely at the end of this movie anyway, but then Victor burst in, and Yuuri is starting to realize that he’s not as eager to disappoint himself as he first thought.

Because someone is impressed with him, someone who cares.

His distracted thoughts about how to deal with these feelings don’t rest well with Yuri later, as he’s yelling at Yuuri about sandwiches and being pointedly ignored.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri strides up to Victor’s dressing room, back straight and script in hand.

And leaves.

A minute later, he reels back to Victor’s dressing room with a deep breath. And leaves. He returns, dragging his feet, doing his best not to chuck his script across the hallway and never look at it again. And leaves.

The eighth time Yuuri shuffles up to Victor’s dressing room, he’s stuffed his script deep into his messenger bag where it can be unseen and safe from Yuuri’s self-destructive hands. It’s hot in the hallway, but Yuuri’s not sure if it’s from the exertion from running back and forth outside Victor’s dressing room for the past twenty minutes or just the thought of being here altogether.

 _It’s for the job_ , he tells himself, except he knows it’s not just that. It’s about Victor. And him. And him-and-Victor. And possibly about cacti.

 _This isn’t how mature people deal with their emotions._ Yuuri sighs to himself, and knocks on the door.

It opens, and Victor is there, going still at the sight of Yuuri. Yuuri does too at first, because seeing Victor look as if he’d just pulled an all-nighter with an old logo t-shirt and uncharacteristically rumpled hair isn’t a sight he sees every day. Even at dance practice, Victor puts twice the effort in looking as if he has to shoot for Vogue every five minutes.

“…Hi,” Yuuri says, when he recovers. “I’m—”

“Oh!” Victor says, and slams the door in Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri stands there, gaping.

The door swings open a minute (or five, Yuuri loses all sense of time when he’s shell-shocked) later and Victor is there, again, looking his usual, perfect self. Well, he looks like he just ran a marathon and his new shirt is one button off, but he somehow makes it work. Yuuri isn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Yuuri! Katsuki Yuuri. It’s so, so unexpected to see you here.” The sarcasm hits a lot harder than Yuuri had expected. “Did Minako need something again? Is Yakov dying? Is the world ending and you’ve realized you’d love at least a little of Victor Nikiforov’s personal time before our inevitable end? Oh, Yuuri, I would be honored to die with you.”

“Can you not do that?” Yuuri asks.

Victor shoots him one of his Look At Me I’m Adorable faces and tilts his head innocently.

“Hm…” Victor pretends to ponder over this. “I’m mad, so I don’t think I will.”  

Yuuri feels his heart sink. “Oh.” That also hit a lot harder than he had expected. “Oh, um, I… right, I understand.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, Yuuri!” Victor laughs, almost too quickly. “About the stopping part, at least. I’m still very unhappy. Devastated. Heartbroken. Katsuki Yuuri is asking favors of me? After so long?”

“ _Doyouwanttopracticelinestogether._ ”

There. He said it. Victor’s looking at him as if he just crawled out of a trash can, but he said it.

“What?” says Victor.

“Do you…” Yuuri waves to Victor to make sure he knows who that is. “…want to practice our lines. For our scene. Together.” God, his throat feels like the size of a _straw_. “Tomorrow night, I mean. Um. After dance practice.” And, after a pause, “Please.”

“Really?” Victor says, eyes like full moons.

Yuuri nods so slightly that it’s nonexistent. He waits for a sound of contemplation, something dismissive about Victor’s schedule or a polite apology that would somehow make Yuuri more attracted to him despite his disappointment, but instead, Victor lights up like the sun.

“Of course! We could practice now, in fact. Would you like to do it here?” Victor waves into his impeccably clean dressing room, which is large and empty and very, very comfortable-looking.

Yuuri stares at the spot where Victor’s awkwardly-buttoned shirt teases the pale skin of Victor’s chest and feels his eyes dilate.

“No!” he yells, unintentionally. Victor draws back. “No, no, no, I mean, I’m really busy now and um, I’m sure you have plenty of work to do too—” He waves to the bags under Victor’s eyes that the actor has failed to hide. “—so, yeah. It’s fine. You don’t have to waste your daylight with me.”

“But I want to waste my daylight with you,” Victor says.

“And I said you don’t have to,” Yuuri persists. Victor pouts, which Yuuri softens to. “I don’t want you to overwork yourself, alright?”

Victor’s expression falls, and for a moment, Yuuri fears that he said the wrong thing. But after a moment, he hears Victor draw in a long breath, and, unusually quiet, say, “If I must.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri panics.

The plan he’d made beforehand had involved something along the lines of shoving Victor into Yuuri’s tiny apartment and trading Doritos over the dining room table as they practiced. Yuuri would maintain a comfortable two-foot distance from Victor at all times, not stumble over himself like a weird person, and they’d… exchange phone numbers or something, Yuuri hadn’t been exactly sure, but it would be progress. Progress and Doritos.

Unfortunately, Yuuri had forgotten the magic of Victor Nikiforov, human life-ruiner, and how putting such a large time gap between these meetings could threaten the stability of silly things like plans.

Because Victor is everywhere after that. Like, they work in the same building, sure, but Victor was never always _there_. If Yuuri is somewhere within a 50-foot line of sight, Victor will wave or smile or call his name in excited, puppy-happy greetings. Even when Yuuri doesn’t notice him first, which is rare considering Yuuri’s built in some Victor Nikiforov Detection Device into his head since his months here.

The training sessions are the worst because Yuuri, in all his wisdom, completely forgot they were practicing the steps for Victor and Mila’s _My Old Lover_ duet. While the song itself, surprisingly, has nothing to do with actual lovers and everything to do with, well, _theatre_ , it’s supposed to parody the desire of a longing lover, which Victor always plays spectacularly.

Mila, in all _her_ wisdom, is not there, off at Okukawa bootcamp trying to relearn her steps for _Bang Bang, Spotlight_ with Yuri after last week’s disaster session.

The training sessions aren’t the worst because Victor is a bad dancer. They are because Victor is a good dancer, and a dedicated one, almost as good as his acting skills. And Mila’s character, who is supposed to be uninterested in Victor’s stupidly lusting character, must be the strongest person Yuuri knows because _god why did they plan for hands to be_ everywhere _in this scene?_

“Well?” Victor pants, after their first, amazing, successful run through the entire routine. “Did you feel that?”

It’s his character’s line. His first, truly honest line in the entire film, proving how much he loved theatre all along. Except now with his hands are on Yuuri like they don’t belong anywhere else. It’s a metaphor. Or something. Yuuri had the symbolism all figured out while they were choreographing it, but right now, all he can think of is _Victor Victor Victor that was amazing, dance with me again, how do your eyes do that I’m so_ —

And that’s how they end up in a drive-in theatre.

To clarify, that’s how Yuuri ends up taking Victor to a drive-in theatre instead of his crappy apartment. He isn’t sure why he thought option was much better. Yuuri’s memory is kind of a blur from Point A to Point B. How much did he subconsciously want to go on a cliché movie date with Victor that he drove to the first drive-in theatre he could find?

Beside him, Victor munches unsurely on his popcorn and says nothing. Yuuri huddles up protectively in the driver's seat, watching Movie Victor play an overdressed assassin on the big screen.

After an hour of nothing but a couple confused noises and crunching sounds, Victor interrupts with, “I didn’t know you were such a big fan.”

“I’ve never actually seen this before,” Yuuri admits. He’s not sure how, because he knows Victor is an amazing actor and has actually been watching the movie with an obsessive eye for detail this whole time. It’s fascinating. The plot. “I just thought… I could study. While we were here. You.” He waves at the screen. “In motion.”

(It’s a lie. The movie just so happened to be playing when Yuuri threw his car into the drive-in lot and he nearly screamed at the unfortunate accident of taking Victor Nikiforov to his _own movie._ )

“Oh,” Victor says flatly.

“Not that it’s not good!” Yuuri quickly corrects. “I like it. Your character feels very genuine. I’m excited to start filming.”

When he glances back at Victor again, Victor is seems to have forgiven him. Just a little. “Well, I’m glad you think so,” he says. “Though it’s going to be a lot different from this, as the critics say. I think they’re scared.”

“They shouldn’t be,” Yuuri tells him. “I think your new character is more true to you.”

“You think a narcissist politician with a hobby of terrorizing small-town tennagers and hitting on law students is more true to my character?”

“No,” Yuuri says firmly, “I think a goofy, hard-working, narcissist who is secretly passionate about dance sounds more like someone you would enjoy playing.” Suddenly guilty for trying to assume things about Victor after avoiding him for more than four months, he quickly adds, “From what I’ve seen so far.”

Victor laughs at that, a beautiful sound, and Yuuri feels his muscles relax.

“Scaring the wits out of critics is the most exciting part,” Victor confesses after another half-hour of watching Yuuri watch Movie Victor. “I’d almost forgotten that, before I’d accepted this role. I didn’t expect them to get so emotional over it, but it felt good to get such a big reaction. I’m almost afraid they’ll get used to it.”

It’s crass and bold and undeniably Victor. Yuuri adores it.

And he’s been horrible about showing that.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, they have to practice, so they dig out their scripts and turn on the car lights so they can get down to work. Acting, as it is, turns out to be very difficult when they’re being forced to face away from each other, so they manage to crawl into the backseat by Yuuri’s suggestion, which is an ugly mess of limbs and Victor’s elbow smacking Yuuri in the face more than once.

Victor unapologetically drapes himself over most of the seat, shoving his knees against Yuuri’s as Yuuri allows their legs to tangle together comfortably.

Yuuri’s character, Ueno, feels like a more successful, musical-dancing version of Yuuri himself. They even share the same name; which makes Yuuri wonder just how late these last minute revisions were. As they shoot back and forth a couple lines, Yuuri can feel Victor growing tense.

“ _Alexander Fox,_ ” Yuuri lands on, the name of Victor’s character rolling smoothly off his tongue. It feels rhythmic, after getting Victor to move like him for four long months.

“ _Have we met?_ ” Victor says patiently, tame for their first reading.

“ _No,_ ” says Yuuri, who is Yuuri Ueno. “ _No, I’m sorry, we haven’t. I was just being brash, but…_ ”

Victor glances up at Yuuri, who, at this point, would be pushing a bouquet into Alexander’s unsuspecting hands. Nervous, Yuuri grabs the first thing he sees, which is the bag for his pointe shoes, and shoves them at Victor. Victor looks just as surprised as his character might be here, but he ruins it with a terrible attempt at stifling a laugh.

“ _I wanted to catch you before you disappeared again,_ ” Yuuri’s character confesses. “ _You were… I was a fan of yours, in college._ ”

Victor glances up at Yuuri from over his script. He seems almost nervous. “ _You were a fan?_ ”

“ _I never heard of you again, after you graduated. Nobody knew what happened to you._ ” Yuuri swallows at the irony. “ _But I saw you in the crowd today, I had to say something._ ”

“ _You recognized me,_ ” Victor says.

“ _You’re unforgettable,_ ” Yuuri says, but they don’t feel like his words.

No, they do, but not here. Not with the way Victor has been watching him.

Yuuri lowers his script, and marvels at the portrait of Victor Nikiforov, curled up in the back seat of his car and hugging Yuuri’s pointe shoes to his chest as if they could disappear with any less force.

Yuuri sighs.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not your line,” Victor says, squinting at his script.

“No, Victor, I’m sorry.” Victor looks up, startled. “I feel like I’ve been treating you unfairly.”

“Oh, have you?” Victor asks, flatly curious. Yuuri flushes. “How so?”

“By not paying attention to how my actions may affect you,” Yuuri confesses. “You treated me kindly and I didn’t give you anything in return, I’m sorry.”

Victor considers Yuuri’s words, but Yuuri can feel the tension leaving Victor from where their legs meet.

“I’m not nice to you because I expect anything in return, Yuuri,” Victor tells him carefully, and knocks their knees together. His expression is passive, but there’s something comforting about it that releases the breath Yuuri didn’t realize he had been holding. “Maybe that’s just the kind of person I am, hm?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “No, you don’t pay attention to people who don’t interest you.”

Victor doesn’t deny that.

“But you invited me out every week, even when I kept saying no, and you seemed… to really like dancing with me.” Yuuri clutches his script. “I’m… not a very impressive person, outside of my career, and even that hasn’t been very spectacular lately. I didn’t want you to get bored of me.”

Yuuri expects another one of Victor’s amused laughs, but when he looks up, Victor is gaping at him. “Bored of you? How could anyone get bored of you?”

Under Victor’s gaze, it’s suddenly a lot hotter in the car than Yuuri remembers. “I don’t have any prospects outside of dancing,” Yuuri confesses quickly. “And I have anxiety, and I can’t hold a decent conversation, and I’m bad at understanding other people; why do you think it took so long for me to talk to you? I had a nervous breakdown in the middle of a performance because I forgot to take my medication and I forgot all the steps and when I was younger I could play the piano but I never practiced since then and I forgot _everything_ —”

“Yuuri,” Victor says, finally, and his fingertips brush Yuuri’s ankle. Yuuri shivers, and even though it’s probably obvious considering they’re touching in like ten different places, he hopes Victor didn’t notice. “Do you realize how badly you intimidate me?”

Yuuri only blinks at Victor, stupidly.

Victor shakes his head. “You’re extraordinarily skilled, it’s why they chose you to be here. Not because of some viral video or a comeback story. You’re a poet of body language, and it’s beautiful. Who wouldn’t want that in their musical? I listen to you because that’s what’s going to make me the best.” His smile grows wry. “I was frightened of scaring you off.”

Yuuri struggles to find the right words. “You seem to know a lot, about dancing.”

“I like dance,” Victor admits. “It’s a hobby.”

“Just a hobby.”

“Oh?” Victor says, dragging his finger up Yuuri’s ankle again to make Yuuri jump at the sensation, and Yuuri _knows_ Victor can tell what he’s doing. “Do you not trust me?”

Yuuri sucks in a breath to compose himself, and snatches Victor’s hand off his ankle. He keeps Victor’s hand like that, trapped tightly in his, and has to lean forward to keep Victor’s gaze, script pressed against his chest.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know how. Victor’s hand clenches around his at the silence that follows.

“You know what’s inspiring about you, Yuuri?” Victor says.

“No,” says Yuuri, and then, bravely, “What?”

“You’re still here,” Victor tells him. “You’re not done.”

 _That’s not true,_ Yuuri thinks, holding onto Victor’s hand for dear life, _I was so close to giving up. This was supposed to be how I stopped trying._

Until Victor, human life-ruiner, showed up and ruined everything.

The thought of it is liberating.

 

* * *

 

Halfway back to the studio after their practice session (if that could even be called a practice session, what is he going to tell Otabek), Yuuri realizes something important, yells, “WAIT,” slams on the breaks, and detours. Again. It’s a crap move to make in evening LA traffic, but it earns him an unexpected yelp from Victor, which is funny, so it’s a little better.

They finally stop in front of Yuuri’s lackluster, temporary apartment, and Yuuri drags Victor up to his front door and abandons him there, confused. In the future, he’s going to have to give himself a medal for being able to render Victor Nikiforov speechless, but for now, he has a different gift to give. Because he definitely thought he would _try_ to make it to his own apartment before subjecting himself to panicked improvisation.

When he returns to Victor, he prods for Victor’s empty hands, and places a small cactus in his hands.

Victor stares, and doesn’t move.

“You, um, liked Vicchan,” Yuuri tells him, apparently not as prepared as he thought he would be for this excuse. “I figured you might want one too.”

Victor continues to stare, this time at Yuuri, and is doing a very good job at making Yuuri feel like he’s two feet tall. “People usually get flowers after a first date,” he finally says.

Yuuri, to his credit, doesn’t deny this. “Cacti are easy to care for, as long as they’re not cold,” Yuuri tells him. “You’d kill any flowers you’d touch.”

Victor mumbles something that sounds oddly like, “Not if they were from you,” which Yuuri is finding harder to ignore. Victor then fixes Yuuri with a determined look, squares his shoulders and says, “Did you already name it?”

“No,” Yuuri says, remembering how excited Victor got over the idea of Makkachin Junior. “I thought you might want—”

“Yurochka,” Victor declares.

Yuuri stops. “Yura-what?”

“After my cat,” Victor tells him, which only makes Yuuri’s head spin, because the prospect of Victor having an animal and not bringing it to work at least weekly is baffling to him. Unless Yuuri’s just never noticed it as another sign of his poor treatment of Victor. He’s terrible, oh god. But at Yuuri’s distress, Victor only smiles and holds Yurochka up proudly. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh.” Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief. “Wait, then…”

“Thank you,” Victor tells him quickly, in an unusual state of anxiousness. He looks down at Yurochka fondly, and then up with Yuuri, with no less affection. “It amazes me how you think people could get bored of you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shoves his heart back down his throat, and laughs. “I’m a lot more boring around other people.”

“Not me?”

“No,” Yuuri tells him. “No, you’re a special case.”

A breath of silence, then:

“I don’t know if you kiss on first dates,” Victor finally asks, “but would you make an exception for this special case?”

Yuuri, caught, doesn’t reply at first, because from Victor’s tone, it almost sounds like a plea. Like he’s been waiting for this all night. Maybe longer. Which should feel like a shock, but it doesn’t, somehow. It feels like this moment has been a long time coming.

And Yuuri says yes, because there’s nothing else he’d love more.

 

* * *

 

> _**INT. STUDIO MEETING ROOM – NOON** _
> 
> _A CONFIDENT, HANDSOME YOUNG MAN proudly leads a congregation of actors as they debate the last-minute changes made to their AMAZING script before finally announcing the official casting. While the script has personality, it’s lacking something important. A drive. An idol. Someone who would add the magic touch they need for this film to go from GOOD to GREAT. As names are lazily tossed around and shot down with lethal precision from the difficult cast and crew, an onlooker speaks up._

“What about Katsuki Yuuri?”

A dense silence fills the room. Victor toys with the corner of his script, finding himself unable to take back the words.

Finally, “Like the YouTube guy?” says Georgi Popovich from the far side of the table.

“He’s a dancer,” snaps Yuri Plisetsky, now upright in his meeting chair, before grumbling, “…was a dancer.”

“Yeah, but didn’t he have a breakdown onstage last year or something? I thought he was retired,” Mila comments with a hint of sympathy. Victor notices he’s torn off a piece of his script. He carefully edges it back into place.

“If he did, then he should just fucking say so by now!” Yuri says. He throws his glare back at Victor. “What’s your spiel with him, anyway?”

“Oh, Yuri, I can’t be in-touch with the young, talented artists of today?” Victor says with an unapologetic grin, but decides to not torture the boy with a non-answer. “I just think his style might bring out some hidden potential within the performances. Surprise the audience. That’s a direction I’d like to go for.” Quickly, he adds, “His instructor, Minako Okukawa, would be a great choreographer or consultant if you can win her over. She’s won a _Benois de la Danse_.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you were a dance nerd,” Mila muses brightly. She nudges Victor’s side, poking at his innocent expression. “I guess even our Vitya idolizes sometimes too, doesn’t he?

“Victor doesn’t idolize, he gets _curious_ ,” Yuri says.

Victor laughs, for Yuri’s sake.

(His breath feels thin, thinking of a late night years before, curled up with Makkachin and a tub of Häagen Dazs, flicking mindlessly through his feed and contemplating his next big move. If there is one. If there’s a point. They’ve already seen him do anything by now, haven’t they?

He stops on a trending video with a couple young college students doing dance challenges. Apparently one of them is significantly impressive. A Japanese gentleman with unmatched musicality. Victor likes dance; he has nothing better to do.)

“I like it,” JJ declares.

“What,” says Yuri.

Victor’s breath hitches.

“A comeback story, can you imagine it? Inspirational, heartwarming, a tale of the power of passion. It fits perfectly with the theme of the movie!” JJ snaps his fingers as if he’d just had the most brilliant idea. Victor can’t bring himself to be offended; there’s light in his eyes. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can.”

“Wait, you’re actually going to call him?” Yuri asks, frozen.

“Would there be anyone better to do so than myself?” JJ says, because isn’t that the obvious answer?

“Aw, Yuri, are you nervous?” Victor teases. Mila stifles a giggle.

“Like he’d say yes,” Yuri says. “The guy hates attention. Google him. You’ll _know_.”

“But he miiight,” Victor sings, feeling too elated, to excited, to care about much else, and doesn’t bother to duck when Yuri throws a pen at him.

As the actors and crew debate amongst themselves, JJ pulls a notepad out of his bright scarlet jacket and adds another bullet under _dog vines_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [billy mays voice] But wait! There's more,


	2. The Sequel-Prequel Bonus Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for........ CONTEXT

**v-nikiforov@symail.com** | search history

>dog vines  
>west side story prologue scene  
>who is jay leron  
>canadian celebrities undercut tramp stamp directing who  
>who is jj leroy  
>how deep is a career slump  
>difference between spontaneity and desperation

[Expand]

>making introverts feel comfortable without seeming creepy  
>is there still hope if they hide in a trash can to avoid you  
>sad  
>poodle vines  
>things that make people happy other than poodles  
>katsuki yuuri on love performance 2013  
>katsuki yuuri transformation of dance youtube viral  
>katsuki yuuri opinion on dogs  
>katsuki vicchan  
>tips on self-control

 

* * *

 

### Bang Bang, Spotlight (2017 film)

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia  
_For the song from the same movie, sung by Yuri Plisetsky and Mila Babicheva, see_ _Bang Bang, Spotlight (song)_ _._

 ** _Bang Bang, Spotlight_** is a 2017 musical dramedy film based on Kubo Mitsurou’s 1997 Broadway musical of the same name. The film is the directorial debut of Jean-Jacques Leroy, written by Celestino Cialdini, and choreographed by award-winning danseurs Minako Okukawa and Yuuri Katsuki. The film includes an ensemble cast of Yuri Plisetsky, Mila Babicheva, Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin, Yakov Feltsman, and guest starring Katsuki as a fictionalized version of himself. It follows a pair of siblings who are products of a fallen mob empire and their plot to sabotage a local politician.

 _Bang Bang Spotlight_ was released on January 8, 2017 by MAPPA Entertainment. It was a critical and financial success, grossing four times its budget and currently holding the record for biggest sales on the opening weekend for a musical, and has been nominated for seven Oscars, including Best Picture, Best Actor (Plisetsky), Best Supporting Actor (Nikiforov), and two Best Original Songs ( _“_ _My Old Lover_ ” and _“_ _Morning Bright as Sun_ ”).

 

### Cast [edit]

  * **Yuri Plisetsky** as Sasha Nikolaev, the youngest of the former Nikolaev empire and an aspiring theatre actor.
  * **Mila Babicheva** as Tanya Nikolaev, the former heiress of the Nikolaev family and Sasha’s older sister.
  * **Victor Nikiforov** as Alexander Fox, a self-absorbed politician who plans on tearing down the town theatre.
  * **Otabek Altin** as Maxim Aliyev, Fox’s serious yet mysteriously loyal intern.
  * **Yakov Feltsman** as Peter Nikolaev, the former head of the Nikolaev family. He is the grandfather of Tanya and Sasha.

| 

  * **Georgi Popovich** as Luka Kozlov, a mature yet dramatic subordinate of the Nikolaev family, who has watched over Sasha and Tanya since they were children.
  * **Phichit Chulanont** as Martin Rosales, Sasha’s drama teacher.
  * **Sara Crispino** as Angela, a classmate of Tanya’s at law school.
  * **Yuuri Katsuki** as Yuuri Ueno, Sasha’s idol.
  * **Jean-Jacques Leroy** as himself.

  
---|---  
  
 

### Musical numbers [edit]

 _See also:_ _Bang Bang, Spotlight (soundtrack)_

  1. “ **Bang Bang, Spotlight** ” — Sasha, Tanya  
_Sasha and Tanya lament on their dissatisfaction of their uneventful town._
  2. “ **Donna Nikolaev** ” — Tanya  
_Tanya highlights her future career as the boss of the Nikolaev family._
  3. “ **Alex-Alexander** ” — Sasha, Alexander  
_Sasha meets Alexander Fox, unfortunately._
  4. “ **It’s Not Blackmail** ” — Sasha, Tanya  
_Sasha blackmails his sister._
  5. “ **Midnight Flamenco** ” — Alexander, Maxim  
_Alexander expresses his interest in Tanya before an uninterested Maxim._
  6. “ **Fox Hunt** ” — Don Nikolaev, Luka, the Nikolaev Subordinates  
_The Nikolaev family expresses their distaste for Fox, violently._
  7. “ **Lady Luck and Baseball** ” — Sasha, Tanya, Alexander, Maxim  
_A game of cat and mouse plays out as Sasha’s attempts to investigate Alexander are ruined by Maxim, and Tanya avoids the politician’s odd advances._
  8. “ **Arrested Internship** ” — Sasha, Maxim  
_A misunderstanding leads Maxim into learning a different side of Sasha._
  9. “ **My Old Lover** ” — Alexander, Tanya  
_Tanya finally corners Alexander after discovering his history in theatre._
  10. “ **What, What, What** ” — Alexander, Tanya, Sasha, Maxim, Don Nikolaev, Luka, the Nikolaev Subordinates  
_Alexander discovers the siblings plots with disastrous effects._
  11. “ **Lamplight Lament** ” — Sasha, Tanya, Maxim  
_Sasha, Tanya, and the newly-fired Maxim think over their actions under the evening streetlight._
  12. “ **It’s Not Kidnapping** ” — Sasha, Tanya, Maxim  
_Sasha, Tanya, and Maxim kidnap Alexander from a bar._
  13. “ **Alex-Alexander (reprise)** " — Sasha, Alexander  
_Sasha and Alexander make amends during their spontaneous trip to an Ueno show three states away._
  14. “ **Morning Bright as Sun** ” — Ueno  
_Sasha and Alexander just barely catch the ending of one of Ueno’s star performances._
  15. “ **Bang Bang, Spotlight (reprise)** ” — Sasha, Tanya, Alexander, Maxim, the Nikolaev Family, Ueno  
_The cast lays out their futures._
  16. “ **Romenot and Julinyet** ”  ( _end credits_ )— Luka  
_A credits song composed by Popovich himself._



All songs, aside from the post-credits theme, were composed and written by  Leo de la Iglesia  and Seung-Gil Lee.

 

* * *

  

 **Guns, Dancing, and Victor Nikiforov: A Surprisingly Heartfelt Story of Dreams and Inspiration**  
_Reviewed by_ _Evelyn Maria Wright_

 _Bang Bang, Spotlight_ (all stupid film names intended) is a film by newcomer JJ Leroy that I did not want to fucking see. Most people already know Leroy by reputation alone, and nobody expected a film from him, let alone his first, to be any good. However, the young director/celebrity seems to be dead set on pulling an Orson Welles, and if there’s one thing his reputation implies, it’s that this man does not know the existence of disappointment.

Even if you don’t know Leroy, who I have discovered is actually quite adorable in interviews, you may have been turned off by the outlandish premise of a musical-comedy with a hammed-up plot by a nameless director. Even dropping _Victor fucking Nikiforov’s_ name couldn’t forgive the riskiness with an actor who is would generally be typecast as the sexy, distinguished, Bond-esque roles of every Oscar-orgy drama of the last decade. Nobody of this age thought it logical to stick Nikiforov in a comedy, much less a comedic villain.

But Leroy did, and with rising hope for the movie, including hiring legendary dancer Minako Okukawa and her student, Yuuri Katsuki, to assist with choreography, a thousand backstage promo videos recorded by Babicheva, and managing to drag _Yakov Feltsman_ out of retirement, my initial distaste for the film had piqued into something of ironic interest, and I decided I could at least appreciate watching my unashamed favorite Yuri Plisetsky defy standards yet again.

And goddamn.

The musical film follows a young Sasha (Plisetsky) and Tanya Nikolaev (Babicheva), the children of fallen syndicates of a former mob empire, now forced to live in a tiny, backwater town that nobody cares about for their own safety. Plisetsky, who was too young to ever appreciate his family’s former glory, struggles to separate from his traditional family, and following his passion for theatre instead so that he’ll, one day, be just like his idol, Ueno Yuuri (Katsuki).

This all comes to a halt when Councilman Alexander Fox (Nikiforov) steps in to tear down the only theatre in town to make room for a megamall. Plisetsky, furious and alone in his battle, blackmails his elder sister into helping him take down Nikiforov to protect the only place that makes him feel at home. They concoct a plan for Babicheva, who prides herself to be equipped with all of the skills of a former mob heiress, to draw his eye away while Plisetsky follows rumors of incriminating evidence hidden within Nikiforov’s quarters.

However, their simple plan is met with a few unfortunate roadblocks. Babicheva is too good at her job, not only managing to distract the deluded, narcissistic Nikiforov, but make him convince himself that Babicheva is desperately in love with him, giving him a _very logical_ reason for why he must pursue her in return. It would be worth it, for Plisetsky’s sake, if it weren’t for Nikiforov’s highly-attentive intern, Maxim (Altin), secretly putting a foot out for Plisetsky at every attempt to ruin his boss.

This game of sabotage would all be an easy solve if not for the third party— Plisetsky and Babicheva’s own family. A loyal, despairing bodyguard (Popovich) discovers Nikiforov’s unwanted advances on an oblivious Babicheva, resulting in an angry song/dance montage with a powerful criminal chorus chanting about all the ways they could come home with Nikiforov’s head on a pike.

I’m not going to spoil the entire thing right away because it’s a religious experience in itself to view as an first watch, but you get the gist.

And you really have to have watched their previous works to fully appreciate the cast in this movie.

Anyone who’s been on this blog in the past three years knows I’m the biggest Plisetsky Angel and infamous flipped my lid when I thought he was being thrown into another trashy role with this film. (To be fair to myself, after the disaster of _Jackie and Daniel_ and the jarring experience of having to watch this talented boy be wasted with this my-death-is-a-plot-device melodrama, I was reasonably concerned.) In his career of up-and-down films, he always most dangerous when he came back from the grave, teeth ready to snap onto a Golden Globe or two the following year. While my boy being miscast was not an unfamiliar sight, I always had hopes that the cycle would break, and this movie just seemed like another piece of the pattern.

Babicheva isn’t so much famous as she is a wild card. Few actually know her by her works than they do for her reputation for being unpredictable. Her more serious work mostly includes Russian stage musicals, only recently setting her sights of Broadway in the past couple years, occasionally trying out for a minor film role. Since then, spotting Mila Babicheva in a movie is as well-grounded as a Stan Lee cameo, with challenges popping up as early as 2011. Putting her into a major role seemed like a time bomb waiting to blow.

Nobody even _knew_ who Altin was. The boy just seemed to crawl out of the ground without so much as a smile function, dust himself off, and walk onto the set. Literally no one paid attention to him when he was cast. I barely even remember when the announcement came; he was just sort of always there. Rumor has it that he was travelling the world and DJ-ing in various clubs before he met Leroy at an afterparty and finally got his big break on _Spotlight_.

Should anything even be said about Nikiforov? Cultural icon-ship aside, we know that he has a slight history dabbling in musicals (if anyone has stopped crying after watching _Your Arms_ ) and a near-flawless IMDb page since his role as Ice Skating Kid 18 years ago, infamously calling Yakov Feltman’s character a “crusty salchow” and skating away. It’s because of this man that this movie actually got any attention, even against all angry controversy of internet celebrity JJ Leory directing a film at all. It was only after his announcement that people simultaneously became hopeful for the film and lost their faith in the sureness of Nikiforov’s “keep surprising the audience” motto.

If you expected Yuuri Katsuki at all, kudos to you, because all I got to prepare myself for that was a five-year old internet video that I vaguely remembered from high school.

• ** Read More **•

 

* * *

 

 **Bang Bang, Spotlight Bloopers – Plisetsky Name Drop  
** _1 month ago – Uploaded by moymoymila_  
**57,105 views  
** rip my bOY  
  


 

> **INT. CLASSROOM – DAYTIME**

“As talented as an actor as you are, Sasha,” says Martin Rosales, played by Phichit Chulanont, “there is no theatre community in Middletown.”

“That’s bullcrap, you know there is,” protests Yuri, who is Sasha Nikolaev.

“Yeah, of two. Seven if you count the elderly people who come to watch sometimes, before they take over the place for evening bingo.” Yuri opens his mouth to say something else, but Phichit continues. “Sasha, I’m the only theatre teacher in town, and that’s my moonlight job. Even though your claims that it might be a personal job, Councilman Fox has no reason _not_ to tear it down.”

Yuri grimaces, instead of straight up growling. It’s truer to his character. “Didn’t stop Ueno.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yes, fucking ‘oh boy’ because the greatest stage actor of this age started out in a no-name town like this one!” Teeth bared, Yuri digs the heels of his sneakers into the scuffed classroom floor. “And you know what, maybe that’s exactly what makes him so amazing, because you don’t come out of a Ueno performance without bringing some part of him with you. Because shitty politicians like _Alexander Fox_ can’t screw him over, and because he doesn’t need their permission to be the artist that he is!”

Yuri leaps to his feet, chair toppling backwards behind him and echoing the crack of his hands onto Phichit’s desk. Phichit, startled, jumps.

“But at least he had a place to try,” Yuri growls. “I don’t have that luxury. My family doesn’t want me up there. If that’s going to be me one day, if I’m going to be just like Katsuki one day then… then I… I… what the fuck are you looking at me like that for.”

Any restraint Phichit has been holding onto disappears the moment Yuri breaks character, as does any anyone else has had. Mila screams with laughter from behind the cameras, trying to steady herself but consequently sticking her hand into a pile of doughnuts on the break table. Phichit is dying on his desk; he doesn’t seem to be able to breathe through all his wheezing. Victor looks as if he won fifteen Golden Globes at once.

“CUT!” JJ howls through his tears. He looks as if he’s about to laugh himself out of his director’s chair. Yuri hopes he breaks something. “CUT! Guang Hong get me water, I’m begging you.”

“What?” Yuri demands. This is take 52. It was perfect. Everything was perfect— Phichit didn’t giggle, Yuri didn’t choke, and nobody almost died via crushed by a loose blackboard. “What!?”

“ _You said Katsuki!_ ” Mila hollers. “You actually said it! His name is supposed to be Ueno!”

“What the— _I did not!_ ” He did. Fuck. “Shut the fuck up! It’s his fucking character, we get names mixed up all the time! Like you don’t— Victor you better not be telling him this!”

Victor’s phone magically disappears from his hands, replaced with the innocent flutter of his eyelashes. “Oh, but Yura, he worries about you so much!” the asshole says anyway. “Give me this one moment to tell our beautiful trainer that you love him and you want to be like him and you’re inspired by him and…”

“I will gouge your throat out with me teeth,” Yuri says.

“This is the best day of my life,” Phichit says, still face down on his desk before Yuri. “I’m buying the Blu-ray of this movie five times just so I can watch this blooper on five separate televisions at once.”

Yuri feels his chest constrict and slowly turns a dripping, acidic glare toward the jackass director of this feature-length film. His neck is hot, his fists iron tight as he spits out, “Oh, no, don’t you fucking dare—”

 

* * *

 

**Top 30 Improvised Moments in Film**

  1. **28**. “ **First base”**  
Victor Nikiforov and Mila Babicheva, _Bang Bang, Spotlight_ (2017)



[ _inserted: vimeo clip_ ]

As the most recent icon of film history, Nikiforov and Babicheva have set the bar for 2017 with their hilarious back and forth from this year’s Oscar-stealing comedy-musical. Following a blackmailing scheme set by her brother, Babicheva’s character scores a meeting with antagonist Nikiforov, who has misunderstood Babicheva’s persistence as sexual interest. What happens next, as they say, is history. However, while many have criticized the scene as hammy, it cannot be appreciated in full apart from the story behind it:  
  


 

> **_PLISETSKY_ ** _: It was the thirtieth take at like, one in the morning because it was a night scene and it was taking for_ ever _. Mila had an accident during an earlier scene and couldn’t stand properly, Beka was out doing a commercial, Yuuri was stressed because we were behind schedule on the dance scenes, and JJ was being— just annoyingly positive, I don’t even remember anymore. Nobody was in the mood for shooting. I honestly thought we would just go home if it were any other director._
> 
> **_PLISETSKY_ ** _: Yuuri was there because of the schedule thing and he was waiting to talk with JJ about some scene revisions. I thought he would just, take a nap on the costumes or something and piss off Georgi again, but he just looked upset. I was about to shove him in a closet with the costumes and force him to sleep. JJ didn’t need him at one in the morning anyway._
> 
> **_PLISETSKY_ ** _: So here we are, shooting Victor trying to seduce Mila for the thirtieth time, and he’s just supposed to like— get handsy and she knees him in the balls or something. But they finally get through this scene without JJ calling out Mila on being too shifty or Victor getting all angsty about being seductive when he just gives up._
> 
> **_PLISETSKY_ ** _: I get so fucking frustrated because I can see the exact moment, during that one close up, where it’s supposed to be this erotic eye-glinty thing, but no that’s just him going “fuck it.” And then_ that _happens, and then they just don’t stop! I don’t know why they didn’t stop! Nobody stopped them!_
> 
> **_PLISETSKY_ ** _: The worst part is that you know it’s about Yuuri, because he went from corpse to incessant giggling like that. He spat out his coffee when Victor tore off his shirt and tried to cover it up by hiding behind the coffee machine, but I was right next to him. He got coffee on me. Victor was fucking glowing when the scene ended; he looked so damn proud of himself. He dragged Yuuri home after that._
> 
> **_INTERVIEWER:_ ** _Is that why you’re screaming during the cast commentary of this scene?_
> 
> **_PLISETSKY_ ** _: I can’t finish this movie without being reminded of this disgusting memory._

 

* * *

 

 **“First Base” scene with Mila Babicheva and Victor Nikiforov**  
_1 month ago – Uploaded by Risa Hernandez_  
**1,267,892 views**  
Honestly I don’t know if I’m more turned on by Victor’s horrible seduction or Mila fucking Babicheva ready to kill me. Honestly they can both step on me.  
  


 

> **INT. OFFICE – NIGHTTIME**

A young Tanya Nikolaev, played by Mila Babicheva, nurses an empty glass of Jack Daniels in a dimly-lit office. Before her stands Councilman Alexander Fox, played by the illustrious Victor Nikiforov. Victor has his hair slicked back from his characteristic fringe, to show off his finely-chiseled cheekbones and symbolic green contacts. His shirt is opened slightly, a change from the usual crisply-dressed Fox from earlier scenes, showing off his gold chain.

“It was kind of you to meet me, Mr. Fox,” says Mila. She seems concerned about the excess of candlelight around her, but does not comment upon it. “It was… very hard to get a meeting with you.”

Victor refuses to look up at her, leaning coolly against his sleek, mahogany desk. He shifts a shoulder so his chest muscles ripple sensuously. “Not as hard as some things, I’d imagine.” He finds her at the corners of his eyes. “Come to talk about baseball some more, Miss. Nikolaev?”

Mila swallows. Ah, yes. Her cover story, she had nearly forgotten. “I’m not actually here to talk about middle school baseball, Mr. Fox,” she says, tugging at the collar of her shirt, which is cockeyed and bothering her. Victor stares at her with half-lidded eyes. “There have been things far more disconcerting to me, as of late.”

Victor smirks and picks himself off the desk. A longshot sees him making three long strides across the gap between him and his female companion, emphasizing the graceful angle of his legs. “You’ll be happy to know,” says Victor, breathy, “that I feel the same.”

And with a single swipe of his hand, rips open the remainder of his shirt, allowing the naked curves of his torso to catch beautifully in the moonlight.

Mila screams.

Victor props an expensively-dressed foot against one of his designer chairs to better display himself before his would-be lover. “You should be lucky, Miss. Nikolaev. I am not usually so quickly taken by my admirers.”

Despite her shock, Mila struggles to continue and not meet eyes with the director. “What the _fuck_ , Fox.” Oh, that’s going to be pushing their PG-13 rating.

Victor blows a stray hair from his face, somehow managing to still stay masterfully in character. He props a hand on his hip. _What is he doing._ “I’m not a fool, Miss. Nikolaev,” he chuckles, “I know the secrets behind… baseball, as you call it.”

“You thought it was me trying to get an invitation to your shady love cave?” Mila says without choking, somehow.

“Admittedly one of the more cliché ones, I’d say. You’re not very experienced at this, are you? It’s alright.” He winks. “You have a very talented tutor.”

Mila, with all the scorn of former mob heiress Tanya Nikolaev, fumes. “Oh, you want me to take off my clothes, do you?” she grits out. “I’ll show you experience!”

Victor’s eyes widen in the slightest when Mila actually begins ripping off her shirt and jacket, but doesn’t actually topple over until Mila removes her gun from its hidden holster and shoves it in his face.

“What is that?” he yelps from the floor.

“ _First base!_ ” snaps Mila.

They cut just as Yuuri collapses in laughter off-camera.

 

* * *

 

 **Alexander Fox meets Yuuri Ueno – BBS full scene + Commentary**  
_5 months ago – Uploaded by Yurifix_ ****  
**74,760 views**  
Everything in this video is owned by MAPPA Productions. Including my soul. I sold it to them.  
  


 

> **EXT. HASETOWN THEATRE – EVENING**

“Mr. Fox!”

The sound of hurried footsteps brings a weary Alexander, Victor’s character, to a halt. Absently, he wonders if Sasha— if Yuri— would be envious that this miracle happened just as he left. The sound of Sasha proudly declaring his idol’s name is how the thought of this person comes, after all. Surprisingly, it makes him fond.

“Ueno Yuuri,” Victor greets, turning to meet the flushed face of the infamous actor. There’s still a bouquet crushed to his chest; he probably forgot to put it down on his rush to meet him. Victor holds back a laugh as Yuuri struggles to catch his breath. “Congratulations on an exemplar performance.” _It meant more than I could explain, for Sasha. And me._

Yuuri’s face reddens, though Victor isn’t sure if it’s because of the exertion anymore. Or the acting. How talented Victor himself must be, to hide what affection he holds in this situation.

“Alex,” Yuuri pants out. “Alexander Fox.”

It’s at this point that his face falls, realizing. “Have we met?”

“No!” Yuuri blurts, dropping his bouquet. He quickly snatches it back up and struggles to recover. “No, we haven’t. I’m sorry. I was being brash. It’s… um…”

Victor opens his mouth, impatient, but is interrupted by a crowd of flowers being pushed into his chest. The bouquet. For once in his life, he’s speechless.

“I wanted to catch you before you disappeared again,” Yuuri laughs, breathless. Victor blinks at him owlishly. “You were… I was a fan of yours. In college.”

“You were… a fan?” College. His theatre minor; before he abandoned it to follow his family. Before he left entirely, just to get away from it all.

“I never heard of you again, after you graduated. Nobody knew what happened to you,” Yuuri says. “But I saw you in the crowd today. I had to say something.”

“And you recognized me.”

“You’re unforgettable.”

Yuuri immediately shies away from his own boldness; true to more than just his character. Victor is unable to move, shock still.

“I was a business major, I thought, maybe I could help my family with the inn, at least. I was too scared to join theatre, but every show you were in… no matter how small the role, you stole them all.” Yuuri meets his stare with one of wonder. One from Ueno Yuuri to Alexander Fox. “You made me want to try again. The stage. And here I am.”

(Victor stifles a laugh, at the irony of it all.)

“I just wanted to say that I wouldn’t be here without you,” Yuuri tells him, pressing the bouquet into Victor’s arms. “I could at least share this success with you.”

Victor allows the pause to carry between them, appreciating the moment, the beauty of it, stops holding back.

“Thank you,” he says, despite knowing Yuuri can’t feel the weight of it. How much it means. “I never knew.”

“I guess I never told you,” Yuuri says, embarrassment returning. The blush is probably genuine again; he was never the one for cheesiness. “That’s… That’s all I had to say. Thank you for hearing me out, and, um, bye, Mr. Fox.”

Like that, he turns to leave.

“Wait,” escapes Victor before he can stop it.

Yuuri locks up and carefully turns around.

“Call me Alex,” Victor tells him. “You know, if you’re ever free, there’s a small theatre in the town I live in. If you’re ever tired of the big life here, I know you have a few admirers who would be more than willing to let you use it.”

The stars in Yuuri’s eyes at that are brighter than the ones above.

 

* * *

 

 **Bang Bang, Spotlight DVD 2 – Behind the Scenes Extras**  
Cast Commentary  
Scene 33- Long-awaited Hello  
  


> **BABICHEVA** : I think Alex is thinking he has more chemistry with Ueno in this five minute scene than he had with his fake love interest for the other 110 minutes of the movie.
> 
> **PLISETSKY** : They can’t be love interests if they just met.
> 
> **BABICHEVA** : That’s what makes it so elusive!
> 
> **ALTIN** : I think it’s nice that Ueno had admired him for so long.
> 
> **PLISETSKY** : I mean, I guess. It’s not like they’re bad for each other.
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : Aw, Yura.
> 
> **PLISETSKY** : I wasn’t talking about you.
> 
> **ALTIN** : This scene might have been more platonic with anyone else.
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : You’re probably right.
> 
> **BABICHEVA** : I mean, you guys dance together in the credits scene.
> 
> **POPOVICH** : Doesn’t Victor’s character keep a poster of Yuuri in his new office? When he takes over the theatre?
> 
> **BABICHEVA** : I forgot about that! Ha!
> 
> **ALTIN** : What do you think?
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : Hm? Me?
> 
> **PLISETSKY** : It’s your character. Just spit it out.
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : Ah, but that would ruin the beauty of interpretation, wouldn’t it?
> 
> **PLISETSKY** : It’s because of people like you that people bash us on the internet.

[cont.]

 

> **NIKIFOROV** : Hmm… what about you, Yuuri?
> 
> **KATSUKI** : Huh?
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : Your character was the one watching Mr. Fox all these years.
> 
> **KATSUKI** : …You mean the idea of a famous person having feelings for the person who has unwittingly inspired them for years?
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : Of course! Of course!
> 
> **KATSUKI** : Not very plausible.
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : Yuuuri…
> 
> **KATSUKI** : I’m kidding, Vitya.
> 
> **NIKIFOROV** : Ah, my Yuuri is so cruel.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lynn, how long did it take you to translate all this formatted crap from google docs to ao3?" FOREVER MURDER ME  
> yes i wrote an entire musical while brainstorming for this fic. it took ten pages of my notebook.  
> this fic took a lot more drafts than you think and this entire CHEESE section is that consequence.  
> anyways tysm for reading this shiddig! send me your love if you liked  
> 


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